The Language of Actions
by thewaywedo33
Summary: Hermione is surprised by who comes to her rescue during the Battle of Hogwarts, but getting answers for the reason why proves difficult.


**A/N: Here's another short extremely fluffy Fleurmione fanfic I originally posted on my Tumblr. Not sure how I feel about this one, I'm kind of pants at writing dialogue, but I'm working on it.**

**I've got a multi-chapter AU in the works that I'll be posting eventually, and some other plot bunnies hopping around in my head that I'm sure I'll work on over time. I love this pairing like woah, so they're never too far from my mind.**

**Also, I have no idea why I keep writing such fluffy stuff, it's not how I actually am as a person (more like sarcastic curmudgeon), but it's what I've been able to write so far so I'm going with it.**

* * *

Harry and Ron are running full tilt ahead of you by about 30 yards when it happens. In hindsight maybe running along the outer wall of Hogwarts made you an easier target, but you lost your ability to strategically plan out moves ahead of time when full blown war broke out.

You hear the Cruciatus curse yelled by a death eater a second before a body slams you into the stone wall. There's a moment of terrifying confusion before you'r able to piece together what's happening. Someone has taken the curse on for you, protecting your body with their own, subjecting themselves to a pain that would be unimaginable to you if you hadn't just endured it at the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange not all that long ago.

Mercifully, someone sends a successful stunning spell at the death eater, and your savior is released from the throes of the curse. Your head is turned to the side with a sweaty forehead pressed against your temple, a pale neck covered in grime in your peripheral vision, and you are looking right at a hand pressed against the stone wall next to your face, fingers flexing and relaxing repeatedly as the pain ebbs away. You know who that hand belongs to. It is one half of the very same pair of hands that helped bring you back to health when you landed at Shell Cottage, body and spirit broken.

Fleur. Fleur Delacour put herself between you and harm's way. You take a second to let that sink in before deciding she acted on instinct and surely would have done the same for any of the Order. You just happened to be the one under attack as she was passing by. Sure, she had previously nursed you back to health, but there had never been any indication that it was more than a friendly or necessary endeavor.

You can feel her ragged breath hitting your neck, but you sense her getting her bearings back. The sounds of battle raging all around you intrude on the moment, and you realize you both should keep moving. You are essentially sitting targets right now. Before you can voice your thoughts Fleur is straightening up and stepping away from your body. There's a gravel like noise from deep within her throat before she speaks the words "We need to keep moving 'ermione" in that french accent you've grown to know so well.

You nod, not sure if she even saw you make the gesture. You look over at her, surprised when you meet those impossibly blue eyes. For the barest of moments you see something flash in them, starting a tickle at the back of your brain. Something is there that makes you question your previous assumption, but the moment is fleeting, and whatever was flickering in those icy depths is there and gone in a second.

She turns from you and takes a couple of steps away before you manage to find your voice.

"Fleur?"

She only partially turns back to you, wand held out and ready for any possible attacks.

"We'll talk about this later?" you ask in a voice that sounds way more timid than you would like. As if there is something hidden beneath the surface of this situation that needs discussing but you are too afraid to acknowledge it. You think maybe there is.

Fleur gives no outward reaction besides an almost imperceptible nod to you before taking off at a run to immerse herself back within the battle.

It's only a second later that you turn away yourself, breaking into a run to catch up with Harry and Ron in order to finish what needs to be done, determined to survive this infernal situation and get answers to what exactly it is that just happened.

* * *

You feel numb when Voldemort emerges from the Forbidden Forest with his army and you see Hagrid carrying Harry's lifeless body. How could it come to this? All of your planning, sacrifice and forced bravery were for naught. Your books and cleverness could not avoid this moment, and it feels distinctly like failure.

You're so lost in those thoughts and your grief that you almost don't notice it. A particular blonde takes half a step to the right when Voldemort decides to make an example of any who would continue to resist. It's a subtle shift that just happens to place her completely between you and Voldemort, her height advantage rendering you nearly invisible to anyone looking on. There's enough space between the two of you to make it seem random, but that tickle in the back your mind starts up again. When all hell breaks loose and Harry's body disappears the feeling goes with it.

Not long after, you find yourself engaged in a duel with Bellatrix Lestrange alongside Ginny and Luna. You know you should feel terrified but instead you're just angry; angry for the pain she inflicted on you and furious for how she took Sirius away from Harry. When Mrs. Weasley steps in you really want to keep fighting, and would have, if it wasn't for the shield charm that shows up unexpectedly. You don't miss the way Fleur just happens to be turning away from you to engage in another duel a moment after the invisible wall went up.

Less than two minutes into Harry and Voldemort's final confrontation you piece together the situation involving wands and their masters, and your mind starts to drift while everyone else seems to take forever to catch on. When your gaze lands on Fleur you strangely find yourself thinking about the Time Turner you had in third year. If you still had it you might be able go back and watch her recent actions without having death curses thrown at you from every direction. Maybe then you could actually make sense of things. But then Voldemort is dead, and there are more important things to deal with than your curiosity.

* * *

You were mistaken when you thought the confusion and chaos would end after the battle. You find yourself involved in a never ending apparition cycle between the Burrow and Hogwarts, helping with the dead and debris clean up. You rarely have a free moment to think about anything besides the task at hand, and yet you find your thoughts straying to Fleur more and more. You still haven't talked about what happened. She's not avoiding you per se, but you sense the fact that the two of you are never, ever, alone together is more her doing than a coincidence. The two times you thought you might get her alone she'd been dismissive, quickly striding off to some other task, and she'd been oh so French about it. You're not even sure if that's a thing, but it allows you to feel a sort of righteous indignation that you really want to hold on to right now.

Two weeks after Voldemort's defeat Bill Weasley announces his plans to return to Egypt for the long term. Your stomach lurches at the thought of Fleur being so far away permanently and you never getting your answers. Then Bill also announces the marriage ceremony was never completed prior to the attack on the Burrow, and he and Fleur both think it's for the best, and your stomach lurches in a completely different way, though you have no idea why. The part that strikes you as really odd is how not one Weasley finds this announcement strange, nor do they seem surprised by it. You're missing something, you know you are, but for some reason no one is willing to give you all the pieces to the puzzle.

A week after Bill's announcement you find yourself tracking Fleur down. This has gone on long enough and you have a right to explanations. She's walking across the grounds of the castle when you jog up behind her.

"Fleur!" you practically bark, causing her to spin around abruptly and pin you with a stare that can only be described as annoyed. When she doesn't say anything in return you find yourself swallowing an unexpected amount of nerves as your mind draws a blank.

You finally settle on "I thought we were going to talk after the battle?", and you wince as it comes out rather lamely.

Her eyes narrow just a bit before she speaks. "We have talked since the battle 'ermione." She crosses are arms, and it feels like she's almost daring you to dispute this simple fact.

You hate how unsure you sound when you say "You know that's not what I mean."

She tilts her head to the side ever so slightly in response, a question in her eyes. "I'm not sure I do."

You throw your arms out to the side in exasperation. Why is she so unwilling to work with you on this? "You threw up a shield charm to stop me from dueling Bellatrix. Ring a bell?"

"That was probably Molly" she answers back, managing to sound bored.

"How about moving to stand in front of me? Blocking me from Voldemort in front of the castle?" you toss back immediately.

Fleur has the audacity to raise an eyebrow at you for that particular accusation. "I was standing in front of a lot of people." She throws in a shrug for good measure.

You realize the fact that she even knows what you meant by those sentences is, in a sense, an admission of guilt, but you barrel on, determined to get a straight answer.

"You stepped in front of a Cruciatus curse for me." That one comes out close to a whisper and it finally manages to evoke a genuine reaction in Fleur, albeit a small and very brief one. You catch the same emotion flash in her eyes now as you saw that night, but you can't put your finger on it. You realize you're actually holding your breath while waiting for a response.

"I…" she pauses, making her face unreadable again before she continues, "was in the right place at the right time. I acted on instinct. I probably would have done it for any of the Order." she finishes, and she's wearing a determined look on her face, but all you can notice is her use of the word 'probably' and how unsure of herself she sounds.

Your moment of silence gives her time to turn away. "Please 'ermione, no more questions" she tosses over her shoulder. And with that she's walking away from you, leaving you with the same amount of questions you started with, and no answers.

* * *

The next few days certainly don't bring peace of mind. You go around and around in your own head just to go around again. It might be a good idea to ask yourself why you're obsessing over this, but you don't really want to know the answer to that just yet.

After a particularly grueling day of clean up at the castle you decide to stay over in your old Gryffindor room. The house elves continue to make meals for anyone staying in the castle, and after a quiet dinner in the Great Hall you find yourself exhausted and ready for bed. When you exit dinner you catch Fleur heading through the large front doors and out onto the grounds. You're tempted to go after her, but her head is down and she seems lost in thought. You don't feel right disturbing her for questions you can't get her to answer anyway, so you watch her disappear into the darkness with a heavy feeling in the center of your chest.

It finally hits you when you're halfway up the third set of stairs, and you feel like such a fool. This whole time you've been looking for answers from Fleur in the form of words, forgetting how it is she actually works. You're talking about the girl who played the part of the stuck up and conceited princess in your fourth year because that's what everyone expected, and yet was selected as a tri-wizard champion. She's the girl who could have gone back to France, back to the safety and love of her family, but chose to join the Order instead, putting herself directly in harm's way. She was willing to stand by your side and become one of Harry's doppelgangers knowing perfectly well how dangerous it was. She'd spent a considerable amount of time putting up with rude treatment from Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, and yourself you admit bitterly, and yet she'd taken care of you with such tenderness at Shell Cottage. She'd stepped in front of an unforgivable curse…for you.

Fleur Delacour has always done her loudest and most important talking with her actions, and you completely missed everything she's been saying recently. You sink down slowly onto a step and put your head in your hands, wondering how you could have taken so long to figure it out. For someone people consider so bright, you feel so hopelessly dense. Of course Fleur wouldn't answer your questions; she's already told you what you need to know. The real crux of the matter all this time has been how you feel about it, and Fleur is much too proud to try and sway you one way or the other. You let out a long, slow breath before standing up. You think it's time to meet this head on.

It doesn't take you long to find her. She's at the lake, leaning back against a tree watching the stars reflect off the water. It seems so peaceful, and you're almost reluctant to intrude on the moment. She must sense your approach though because she straightens up from the tree. You can barely hear her when she speaks. "Come to ask more questions you know I won't answer"? She sounds tired, maybe a little sad.

"No." is all you can think to respond. She cuts her eyes over to you for a moment, holding your gaze for just a beat before sliding them back to the water. You open and close your mouth, at a loss for what to say, when you decide it might be time to take a page out of Fleur's book.

You approach her slowly, quietly, and when you finally stand before her you reach out to place your hands against her shoulders, leaning in before you can change your mind. Your lips brush hers for just a moment before you pull back a bit, still close enough to feel her breath against your skin. You wait, hoping you haven't misread the situation, but in the next moment she's softly cupping your face in her hands, thumbs brushing the hollows beneath your ears, and she's pulling you gently back in. When she kisses you the sensation travels all the way to your toes. There's a tugging feeling in your stomach and, if you're being completely honest, you're not entirely sure which way is up. Merlin's beard, why did it take you so long to figure this out?

It's right around the time you feel her tongue languidly run along your lower lip that you start to wonder just exactly how long you've been in love with Fleur Delacour. You suppose you ought to be wondering how long she's been in love with you, but you figure there's plenty of time to talk about that later. Then she's leaning back against the tree and pulling you farther into her, and you cease to think about much at all.

When air becomes a necessity you pull apart just enough to breathe, touching your foreheads together. You can see the small smile on Fleur's mouth when she whispers "So, you finally figured it out?", and all you can do is nod against her. A breathy laugh escapes before she continues, "you know, for being the brightest witch of your age it took you long enough."

You give her a light smack on the shoulder for that one, but you couldn't agree with her more. "You should just be happy I figured it out at all."

Fleur pulls back enough to look in your eyes when she says "I am. You have no idea how happy I am" and you can actually see the happiness quietly radiating from her.

You can only echo her sentiments, and neither of you can stop smiling when you lean back in for the next kiss.


End file.
